the gift of repentance

It's customary at this time of year to sing the line, "Let every heart prepare him room", but probably less common to connect these words to the theme of repentance.  That's the gift of the Advent readings in the lectionary: the theme of preparation was set last week in the context of John's proclamation of a "baptism of repentance" in the wilderness.  I had the privilege of preaching the gospel text of Luke 3:7-14 last Sunday.

My own preparation led me to compare and contrast Luke's telling of the story with Matthew's (3:7-10).  Right from the beginning there is a significant difference from Matthew to Luke.  Whereas John the Baptizer's message of repentance was aimed at the "Pharisees and Sadducees" in Matthew, in Luke the wilderness preacher's call is extended to "the crowds that came out to be baptized by him" (Lk 3:7).  Matthew remembers that John called the "Pharisees and Sadducees" a "brood of vipers"; Luke remembers that John affixed that label to "the crowds".  Regardless of audience, however, the purpose of John's preaching was the same: "Bear fruits worthy of repentance" (Lk 3:8; Mt 3:8).

Luke, for his part, spells out the exact nature of such fruit-bearing repentance.  Luke's narrative will not allow  "the crowds"--like the Pharisees and Sadducees--to ritualize repentance (water baptism being one such form) apart from the will to "turn around" or "change direction."  Luke's John, more explicitly in this case than Matthew's, demands the making of amends.  John's proclamation of repentance in Luke is the repentance of Genesis's Jacob, he who tried, with physical gifts, to return his father's blessing mischievously taken from Esau his brother (Esau, for his part, had the grace to forgive without need of restitution, though that in no way cancels Jacob's obligation, for his part, to give).  Indeed, John's counsel to the crowds in Luke is, 

"Whoever has two coasts must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise"  (3:10-11).

It seems like a reasonable directive, one able to followed by rich and poor alike.  "Whoever has two coats", John says, can give one to someone in greater need.  "Whoever has food" should share with someone who has less (emphasis mine).

Advent, therefore, like the Christmas in which it ensues, is a time (and not the only time!) to put into practice the way of the kingdom which will arrive with the King, the one "coming after" John (see Lk 3:16). The preparation of Advent is the giving of gifts to others ahead of the Gift we all receive at Christmas.

-Joe

the baptized life

Over the weekend I taught on the subject of ecclesiology, the theology of the church, at Bethany Bible School.

I studied and selected several texts for the lesson, one of which was Acts 2:41-47.

Acts 2:41-47 is framed by two statements which speak of people being "added" to the number of the apostles.  First, after Peter's Pentecost Day sermon, about "three thousand people were added" (2:41). Finally, after descriptions of the early life of the apostolic community, the text states that "the Lord added day by day to them those who were being saved" (2:47).  These parallel statements about "addition" also invite comparison between those who were being added.  In the first instance, those who were added were those who "welcomed [Peter's] word and were baptized" (2:41).  In the second place, those who were added were those who were "being saved."  The text begins with addition through baptism and ends with addition by salvation.  One wonders, therefore, how baptism and salvation are related.  

A possible explanation of the connection between baptism and salvation may be found in the description that falls between the bookends of verses 41 and 47.  Verses 42-46 are exclusively about what happened to those who were baptized, those who, like others after them, "were being saved."  After being added upon baptism, the text states that they "continued in the apostles' teaching, the breaking of bread and fellowship, and the prayers" (2:42).  These activities find an echo later in the description that they "broke bread from house to house", the centerpiece of a life of daily worship in the temple, "sharing food with glad and generous hearts, praising God, and having the goodwill of the people" (2:46-47).  Between these parallel descriptions are two other statements which each feature a couplet--the first "wonders and signs" (2:43) and the second "possessions and goods" (2:45).  The first statement says simply that "many wonders and signs were being done by the apostles" while the second specifically enumerates the activities of the early church: "they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need."  The structural parallelism in the text invites the reader to consider whether the "wonders and signs" of the apostles were not in fact the "possessions and goods" which they sold to meet human need.  Finally, in between all of these statements is the summary of the apostolic community: "All who believed were together and had all things in common" (2:44).  Everything else in the text is an illustration of this basic apostolic unity.

It is equally true, of course, that the central unity of the church in the text, around which everything else gathers, is itself the product of the distinct practices in the text which surround that center.  The unity of the church was forged by those who were baptized being devoted to "the apostles' teaching, the breaking of bread, fellowship, and the prayers."  Unity was forged by generosity and mutual aid, the fulfilling of human need.  Those who welcomed Peter's word about Jesus "continued" in that word, in word and deed.  It is that continuity with the message and ministry of Jesus that enabled those were baptized to become truly a church--a community devoted to one another under Christ in service to the world.  And it is those who continue in the baptized life to which the text points who are "being saved."

-Joe

speaking simply

At the first meeting of the Steering Committee for the Anabaptist Network in South Africa last December, we had a lengthy conversation on the subject of “simplicity”. And though the bulk of our conversation had to do with economic considerations, one of our members suggested another manifestation of the life of simplicity to which Jesus calls his disciples: simplicity in speech.

Simplicity, or “simple living” as I most often heard it described, was indeed a central value in my Mennonite upbringing—and perhaps especially as it related to speech. Somehow, I picked up that boastfulness, that singing one’s own accomplishments, is about as distasteful a characteristic as one can have. I also learned that “taking the Lord’s name in vain” was an offense of the highest order; though my understanding of such “swearing falsely” has grown to include all injustice done in the name of Jesus, it also still includes an avoidance of the flippant use of any of God’s names in everyday speech. Yes indeed, my colleague’s suggestion that Jesus, simplicity, and speech somehow belong together strikes a chord with the Anabaptist faith I heard and welcomed.

It is probably for that reason then—because I carry a simple faith or a faith in the simple—that the most disturbing encounters I have had within the wide world of South African Christianity have in common the element of someone “saying too much or more than one should.”

For the sixteenth century Anabaptists, the issue that exemplified simplicity in speech was the medieval practice of the swearing of oaths, or, in the case of the Anabaptists, the non-swearing of oaths. Taking their lead from the simple commands of Jesus, the Anabaptists refused to “swear at all, either by heaven, for it is the throne of God, or by earth, for it is his footstool, or by Jerusalem, for it is the city of the great King” (Mt 5:34-35). Applied to Reformation-era Europe, obedience to Jesus’ prohibition against oaths was disobedience to the law of a society built upon injustice, for oaths were the seal of an uneven (and unholy) alliance between lords and subjects, masters and servants. By swearing an oath to human masters in the sight of God, peasants agreed to do their masters’ bidding—even to fight their wars. Oath-swearing was thus the ultimate affront to a righteous God, for it placed ultimate power, the power to take life, within the hands of violent men. It was a renunciation of faith for the faithful, for it denied the God in whom they put their trust in favor of human masters.

All this implies, of course, that the swearing of oaths is fundamentally about relationships—to whom does one owe his/her first allegiance? To whom is one ultimately loyal? Who is one’s primary relation?

Though I was unaware as events unfolded, I have had two separate relationships in which—as I see it now—a partner in ministry swore a kind of loyalty, an oath, to me. In one case, one of our brightest students at the Bible School, whom we had singled out for future leadership, declared to me that he would “come to Bethany Bible School until the rapture.” Looking back, I have wondered whether this was not a bit like “swearing by heaven.” In the second case, another pastor declared that our relationship was the one to “take us into the New Jerusalem”—was this “swearing by the city of the great King”? In each case, the wording too closely resembled the places prohibited for swearing on Jesus’ list to escape my notice as an “oath”—and therefore also implied the same limitations inherent to oaths according to Jesus’ words. For just as one who swears “by [his/her] head” has not the power to “make one hair white or black”, so these friends swore to me that which only God can see for their lives (Mt 5:36). In both cases, the one swearing the oath was not prepared to fulfill it.

It seems to me, therefore, that there are only two kinds of “oaths” blessed by God for humans to take. One, the vow of marriage, repeats the basic structure of creation, blessed by God: “God created the human being in God’s image, male and female God created them” (Gen 1:27), the same “man and wife” who share such intimacy so as to be “one flesh” before their God (Gen 2:24). A second, baptism, binds the believer to Christ and his Body, the Church, the “first fruits” of a “new creation” (2 Th 2:13). Yet because the Church is “one body made up of many members” (1 Cor 12:12), the believer’s baptismal vow is to its totality rather than its partiality, to the whole not the part, to the universal rather than the particular. For, while the commitment to the universal can only be lived within the particular, vows must not be made to any one alone; they are made to God—and even then, in the case of baptism, in order to be blown by God’s Spirit to wherever, to whomever, whenever, God chooses (Jn 3:8-9). This is the “vow to the Lord” which we might “swear”—not to say more than we should but “yes, yes” or “no, no” to the Christ who bids us follow him (Mt 5:33, 37).

-Joe

if and are

I’ve had opportunity recently to revisit the story of Jesus’ temptation (Lk. 4:1-13).

In particular, I noticed the manner in which the devil approaches Jesus in the temptation story in comparison to the way in which the “voice from heaven” approaches him at his baptism, the story which directly precedes the temptation in the gospel tradition.

The “voice” says to Jesus, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased” (Lk. 3:21). The devil says to Jesus, “If you are the Son of God”, followed by a series of requests he makes of Jesus.

God says “You are.” The devil says “If you are.”

God says “you are” my child. The devil says “If you are” God’s child, you must prove yourself according to a certain set of criteria.

The criteria which the tempter says we must fulfill in order to be a child of God comes from outside the child of God. They come from the expectations and demands that others have for us. Such expectations and demands may be the right course for us—if, and only if, they are confirmation of what the Spirit of God has already, beforehand, prior to, said to us. You are a child of God because of what God has put in you.

-Joe

certain signs

"A Certain Jew", Apollos by name, once went down to Ephesus.

So begins the story recorded in Acts 18:24-19:7.

There he burned by the spirit when he spoke, and taught the things about Jesus "accurately", though he knew only "the baptism of John."

Later, when Paul came to Ephesus, he found "certain disciples". They too had been baptized--into "the baptism of John."

The "certain disciples" lacked, however, one important thing: the Holy Spirit. Like the "certain Jew", they needed a Paul, a la Priscilla and Aquila, to take them aside and explain the way of God "more accurately."

This "more accurate" explanation is the difference between speaking by the spirit and being filled with the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit accompanies the "more accurate" message about Jesus--the one testified by John.

The text does not tell us much about the message about Jesus that Paul told to the certain disciples at Ephesus. Paul reports only that John told the people to "believe in the one who was coming after him, that is, Jesus, who would baptize them with the Holy Spirit." But beyond this we can infer the gospel story of Jesus' baptism by John in the Jordan.

Jesus' own baptism was also an anointing of the Holy Spirit. It also sealed his royal status, as Israel's Messiah-King. Just as the son of Jesse, whom Samuel anointed king of Israel some 1000 years earlier, the Spirit of God "rested upon" Jesus "from that day forward" (which is not to say, from the gospel perspective, that the Spirit was not present in some way with Jesus before his baptism).

More importantly, Jesus' anointing at baptism signified what kind of king he would be. Matthew's account, for example, highlights Jesus' humility. Though John testifies that he himself should be baptized by Jesus, Jesus insists that his own baptism "is proper in order to fulfill all righteousness." And so the sinless Son of God embraces a baptism of repentance at the hands of a sinner, one not worthy to untie the thongs of Jesus' sandals. Humility personified.

If there were any doubt as to the measure of his humility, the next scene finds Jesus tempted to embrace dominion over all the kingdoms of the earth if he will only bow down and worship the devil. He refuses: "Worship the Lord your God, and serve him only." Such service to God, in the mouth and in the steps of the Messiah, amounts not to bowing before Satan but before fellow brothers and sisters, even as Jesus has already humbled himself before John. Or as Luke puts it in a scene following directly upon those of baptism and temptation, "the Spirit of the Lord that is upon" Jesus "has anointed him" precisely for a ministry with the broken and suffering children of God: "good news to the poor," "recovery of sight to the blind", "release of the captives". The Messiah's rule will not consist of sumptuous dining in the courts of the rich, waited on hand and foot by inferiors. This Son of Man has come "not to be served but to serve"; this Son of Man has come "to be counted among the trangressors" in his death on a cross, "to give his life as a ransom for many."

This story is of the utmost significance for human life anywhere on the planet, and particularly so in my experience working with so-called independent or spiritual churches and Pentecostals in South Africa. Concern for access to the Holy Spirit is primary; understanding as to the specific life demanded by that Spirit is suspect.

That specific life, as Priscilla and Aquila once proclaimed to a "certain Jew" named Apollos, is Jesus, the Christ. Although he knew "accurately the things about Jesus", this one who burned by the spirit when he spoke had need of "more accurate" knowledge of the way of God. Similarly, when church members testify before the congregation "I am saved" because "Jesus died for me", they are "accurate" but have need of "more."

A young Pentecostal pastor has recognized this tendency. He testified before his congregation one Sunday last month.

"There are certain churches whose members do not even say 'I am saved', because the community must tell them if they are saved. They must know we are saved because they can see that we have good works."

When such "certain members" by their fellows are anointed such, no longer are they "certain disciples". Rather, they have become, as those whom Paul found at Ephesus, "the twelve", Jesus' own disciples, they who speak and walk by the power of the Holy Spirit.

Again Pastor Ntapo:

"I am not greedy for numbers. God wants people who are willing to be thoroughly taught by Jesus."

And with characteristic humility, as if "disbelieving in his joy", he exclaims, "How I wish I really believed the things that I am talking about!"

So be it for us all.

-Joe

Texts referred to or quoted in this entry: Acts 18:24-19:7; 1 Sam 16; Matt. 3-4; Lk. 4; Isa 53:12; Mk. 10:45; Lk. 24:41